The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-12-17
TENNYSON AT HOME.
BY GEoFFREY oUARLRs.

4cully sOil, III HIS oWn GIOuuue Ut home, looks the poet from top to toe. He is even theatrically costumed, in his dashing felt wide-awake, Byronic collar carelcssly lolling like dogs ears over an any how wisped-up neck erchief, and the famous Inverness cape, half-coat half-cloak, flung grandly over his shoulders It was only a few weeks ago that saw the noble hermit who is England's poet laureate. It was in busy London thoroughfare-mi midday-and his lord ship looked as thorough fish out of water as any Norwegian rustic who strays into Broadway from Castle Garden. AS no one seemed to notice him, it was evident that they took him for an East End Jew dealer in "Old clo!" which'he strangely resem- bles. The romantic wide-awake was discarded for dismal, antique, foot and-a- half-t tall silk tile that pro- claimed it was enjoying its first full dress holiday for twenty years at least. The Inverness cape was there, of course, but it was closely hugged up to the neck as if to shield the sen- sitive wearer from contact with the vulgar herd the laureate so dreads. His feet shuffled and slid barely one foot's length at step, and the way those inspired but damp and limp locks clung to the cheeks of the stoop- ing soul of genius was enough to sad den the heart of the sparrows.
 Yet this man (now elevated above mere genius into patent nobility has for quarter of century been the most idolized and socially persecuted lion of the time. Prosecuted by hero worshipers of both sexes for auto graphs, interviews, even passing contemptuous nod; they have driven the lion into his den, and now "take it out of him" by saying he's bear. And so he is, in truth, of late. Ten nyson always has been a genuine Briton, which means that he has got a bit of the bulldog ill him. Carlyle had more of the snarling cur, but Ten nyson is one of the uncouthest old school giants now left in England. The poets nature accounts for so much of his exceptional reserve. When he is in his most amiable mood he is apt to be absent, and makes you feel doubtful whether he isn't really talking his thoughts to the solid wall. Tennyson was driven from his lovely Isle of Wight home by the hordes of sight-seers, who invaded his grounds, his house, and would have shipped his curls and his collars by the inch as relics, if he had stayed there much longer. So he built himself house out of the princely fortune his books have brought him, as he has been the most business-like poet in the money making line that ever made fame. I forget how often he has changed his publishers, the last of whom candidly informed his lordship that even titled laureate should only effect a fair market profit on his wares. If Tennyson has been pestered, as he once complained, by American curi- osity mongers, he did not object to the 25O pound check sent him by an American periodical for short poem.
 The poets new house stands in a charming bit of Sussex landscape, far from the beaten track, lest the crowd should follow. The old seaside home is still used for a portion of the year, but in this house at Hazlemere Ten nyson lives most of his now fading life. It is pitched high, on richly wooded ridge, whence the eye may sweep landscape teeming with all the varied luxuriance of the garden of England. Those most familiar with his works say that Tenny yson's later poems are inspired by the hills that surround his Sussex home, in contrast to the earlier ones, influenced by the flat expenses of Lincolnshire, where he spent his young days. He buried his home amid trees. They stand all around like thick phalanx